The other side
by soulmaker
Summary: A wizard wielding Magic killed his father. A muggle with a blade killed his mother. Now Isaac must live in a world he never wanted with a handicap that makes doing the impossible even more challenging. But with determination, brains, and a little luck, maybe cheating death won't be so hard. OC, nonsuper powere...ah just read it if ya want.
1. Chapter 1

Isaac Frimpong was without a doubt the most boring fifth grader in all of London. Of course, he knew the other kids were being dramatic when they said that, usually teasing him without much success before scampering off to do what children did best. Isaac didn't hold it against them though, after all he was rather boring. What kid sits around reading books instead of playing on the jungle gym, or volunteered in the library once a week instead of messing around with their friends outside? No Isaac would much rather sit down with a nice book and ignore the world. But then Jessica Rivers entered his life and tore apart his routine with all the grace of a pitbull.

Jessica was the new girl in their year, transferred from the states and with her came a whirlwind of changes to the social hierarchy. She was pretty, outgoingly tomboyish, and vocal. None of the other kids stood a chance. Isaac still hadn't figured out why she targeted or what she was trying to accomplish, but whenever Jessica came a calling it meant the end of his peaceful reading.

Her American accent flowed over the cover of his book from the field, "You're on my team Isaac!"

Said boy pointedly ignored her, instead he continued to read about the exploits of Brutus in Rome until the book pulled from his hands by the brown haired harpy. Scowling Isaac rose and reached for the book, "Give it back Jessica, I don't want to play today."

The girl evaded his hand with a smirk, "Why not? You're like the fastest kid on the field! I'm not going to lose to Henry just because you want to read a boring old story."

"I don't care! I don't want to play so give it back!" Once again he reached for the book, but was rebuffed.

"Come on, Frimpong! Kristy is already on vacation and if you don't play someone else has to sit out to make things fair, and since no one else wants to read a book on the last day of school it'll be torture. You can either play with us for one last time until September, or you can waste all that effort trying to get the book back from me while they play instead."

Isaac continued to stare at the girl while he weighed his options. Truth be told she wasn't wrong, she was just as fast as and it would be a hassle trying to catch her. Briefly the thought of fetching a teacher crossed his mind but he dismissed the thought quickly, Caesar wasn't worth breaking the code. A sour look on his face, Isaac gave into her demands, "Fine, let's get this over with."

Jessica offered him a grin as she skipped over to place the book on the bench before she threw her arm over his shoulder and guided him towards the field, "You should be glad to have a friend like me Frimpong, otherwise you might really turn into a worm!"

"Shut it you git!" Though he said the words they bore no venom and the smile on his face was greeted by ten others.

* * *

Mary Frimpong watched her son reading on the couch with a smile as she continued to sip her tea, thoughts of her late husband bubbling to the front of her mind as she did so. Isaac had his eyes, demeanor, and even his dark complexion. Sometimes it felt like her husband simply clones himself instead of the two of them having a child, but then her little boy would smile at her and melt away all the suspicion. That was her smile.

 _"I'll be right back, forgot my purse."_

The words echoed in her mind and he smile slipped away as the memory of that dreaded day came forth. It was a family outing. Mary, Baako, and Isaac out for ice cream on a rather warm September afternoon. They laughed as Isaac got vanilla all over his face, his enthusiastic gibberish filling the air as the two of them shared a kiss. They finished their own cones and moved to clean up Isaac and his mess before leaving. They made it five paces before she realized that she'd forgotten her purse.

Mary heard the commotion outside, a pair of men screaming at each other about something she couldn't quite make out. Turing she saw Baako through the door, Isaac in his arms as he craned his head to look for the source of the trouble, only to find an world shaking explosion.

 _"Baako!"_

"Mom?"

Shaking herself from her thoughts, Mary found her son staring at her with naked concern on his face. Trying and failing to place a smile on her face she answer him, "Sorry dear what was that?"

"I said there's someone at the door."

Sure enough a sharp rapping sprung from the front of the house bringing her to her feet as she moved to answer, "Coming!" The flustered mother fumbled with the lock before opening the door with a smile which changed to wonder as she greeted a very peculiar older woman in strange robes and a pointed hat. "Hello...can I help you?"

Unbothered by the change in tune, the robed woman gave a soft smile and spoke in a Scottish accent,"Hello, is this the Frimprong residence?"

Mary nodded still a little put off, "Yes it is, what can I do for you?"

"My name is Professor McGonagall, I represent a boarding school that has expressed interest in young mister Frimprong. I'm here today to speak with you about his possible attendance."

"Boarding school?"

"Yes ma'am, its located in Scotland and is very selective with who is offered attendance. Is it possible we speak more about it inside?"

Blushing from her lack of manners Mary ushered the professor inside, "Of course!" She showed the strangely dressed professor to the living room before making her way to the kitchen, "I was just sitting down for tea, would you like a cup?"

"That would be lovely, thank you. As I was saying this boarding school is very selective and normally only a few dozen students are accepted each year, though that is relatively new due to certain circumstances."

Mary couldn't help but feel pride welling up inside her as she heard this, her little Isaac must be turning a few heads, "Isaac is very studious, the best grades in his year. Though I rather thought that he wouldn't get such offers until high school. He's only going to the sixth year."

In the living room Professor McGonagall smiled at Isaac who returned it shyly, "Yes our school starts with eleven year old children and for seven years. And while I'm glad Mister Frimprong is the studious type, his grades are not what attracted our attention.?"

Mary, carrying a try with a tea and condiments, frowned, "Not his grades? Are you one of those gifted and talented schools then? I've heard about them, supposedly taking musicians or exceptional writers and such." She offered the professor a cuppa which she graciously accepted.

"Thank you. Yes I suppose it is a school for the gifted but not in the way you are implying."

Sitting next to his mother, Isaac gazed at the stranger with unveiled curiosity, "What kind kids do you take then ma'am?"

Professor McGonagall sipped her tea before answering, "Why Hogwarts is a school for Magical children Mr. Frimprong. Children like yourself."

Mary sputtered and choked on her tea while Isaac just cocked his head in confusion, "But I thought magic wasn't real? My book said that it was all just smoke and mirrors."

After clearing her throat, "Is this some kind of summer camp? I know there are people who take the whole magic business to heart, but this seems a little excessive."

The professor just gave them a patient smile, "I assure you this is nothing like the magic muggles claim to practice. For instance." Reaching into her robes, McGonagall produced a very long stick with a black handle before giving it a few waves and speaking what Mary was sure was latin.

Mary had expected her to turn the fake wand into flowers, or perhaps even produce a quarter from her cup. What she did not expect however, was for the woman to change one of the biscuits into a bird and cause her to drop her tea in shock, spilling the liquid on the ground and shattering the cup.

Isaac was of course impressed, "Wicked!"

His mother watched the bird with an ashen face as it bounced around the table, chirping out its song, "I-it's real?"

"As real as magic can make it. It won't reproduce but it can eat and muck about until the spell is canceled. Mrs. Frimprong, Isaac is a wizard. The Ministry of Magic has ways of tracing accidental magic and so does Hogwarts," she produced a small worn letter from within her robes and handed it to Mary, "Every year names are taken from the list of all magical children of age, and his name was on the list. Surely he's had some strange occurrences that just simply cannot be explained with common logic?"

Lips pursed, Mary racked her brain but found her memories lacking, "No, nothing. He has always been a easy going child. Sure he played and got scrapped knees, but usually he's just reading his books or playing with his puzzles."

McGonagall frowned as she turned her gaze to Isaac, "Can you think of nothing, Mr Frimprong?"

Isaac simply gave a slow shake of his head, "No ma'am, nothing that looked like magic to me."

The professor seemed to be mulling something over in her head, her eyes staring out a window as her lips thinned in concentration, "I see. Well perhaps...yes. Mr. Frimprong why don't you take my wand, that should clear things up."

Reaching out, Isaac gripped the handle of the wand delicately, as if it would break from his childish grip. When nothing happened he gave the older woman a panicked stare, "Well just give it a wave, it won't hurt you."

Doing as instructed, the boy waved the wand slowly over the table and to his surprise a small blue spark shot from the, not bright or vibrant but noticeable none the less. In his arm he felt a slight tingle, like a wintry chill dancing across his skin. Brown eyes widened in excitement, but when he looked at McGonagall he saw that her expression was one of concern, "Was that supposed to happen, professor?"

"Well, yes naturally, but it should have been...perhaps... , would it be ok if I brought in another Hogwarts staff member? I just want to confirm something."

Mary was still watching her son who was now waving his hand around trying to do magic, but managed a small nod, "Sure, that's ok I suppose."

"Thank you. The backyard is this way?"

"Umm yes just right through the kitchen?"

Before she could raise to show her the way, McGonagall was gone, a brisk pace set as she made her way out the back of the house. There was a strange popping sound, almost like bubble wrap and then she was gone from the fenced in yard without a trace. Mary closed the door and sat back into the living room, still watching the small bird peck at a biscuit as Isaac read the letter that was left on the table.

"Mom listen to this: Dear Mr. Frimprong, we are happy to inform you that you've been accepted into Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. Enclosed is a list of required materials for first years available in Diagon alley. Parents should remember that first years are not allowed personal brooms. Familiars are limited to owls, kneazles, and toads unless given permission from staff. Term starts September 1st, we hope to have your confirmation no later than July 31st."

Isaac set the letter on the table and examined the list of materials that he was supposed to bring. There were cauldrons, quills, ink bottles, robes, books of all kinds, a wand, and several other materials that he'd never heard of. Once again he joined his mother on the couch, leaning against her as she wrapped an arm around him, "Mom was dad a wizard?"

Mary gave a humorless laugh, "No dear, he wasn't. Baako was a very practical man, he didn't buy into magic or superstition. I bet if he were here today he'd be locked in debate in an attempt to call it advanced science instead of magic."

Isaac craned his head to meet his mother's eyes, "But I have magic mom. I felt it when I touched her wand, like a tingling in my arm. Maybe I did do some magic when I was younger and just didn't notice?"

"Maybe but I don't remember seeing anything to strange with you love."

Their minds wandered to magic and possibilities before a rapping at the backdoor brought them back into the present. As Isaac stood nervously, Mary along with Professor McGonagall and another woman who looks slightly younger appeared in the room

"This is Madam Pomfrey, the mediwitch for Hogwarts."

The woman gave both of them a smile, "How do you do? As the professor said I'm a mediwitch, much like your muggle doctors, and I'm here to do an examination of your magic Mr. Frimprong."

Mary, ever the concerned parent spoke up, "And what does that require exactly?"

Pomfrey gave a patient smile, "Well it's quite simple really. I simply need to cast a diagnostic charm on which will cause a reaction from his magical core in a form of light to shine from his body. The brighter the light the healthier the magical core, though people often interpret the light to mean power and usually it holds true. Now if I may make things a little dimmer so that we can proceed?"

Receiving a nod, the mediwitch removed her wand from her robe and gave it a few flicks as the curtains drew together to stifle the sunlight, leaving the room significantly darker. "Now hold still, this will only take a moment." Another swish and a murmured latin was followed by a blue light flying from the end of her wand onto Isaac in a flash.

They waited for a moment, and then, "Oh my word..."

Surrounding Isaac was a small, flickering glow, one that might have been ignored as a trick of the light had he not been looking for it. His body felt warm and tingly, as if he'd just awoken from a deep sleep. In the dim light he could just barely make out the astonished face of his mother, and the grim faces of both the witches. Once the spell died they reopened the windows, but their faces remained unchanged.

The two spoke in hushed tones, sparking concern from Mary and Isaac. Finally Professor McGonagall turned to them, "Mrs. Frimprong, has Isaac experienced a physical trauma in his years?"

Her concern deepend,"Why do you ask, is something wrong with my son?!"

It was Pomfrey who answered, "Mrs. FrimProng your son's magical core is showing signs of exhaustion, and while it is not uncommon for active wizards or witches to have such a condition after performing great feats of magic, for it to appear in your son who does not even have a wand would suggest that it was strained very early in his life before it really had a chance to develop. Couple this with the lack of accidental magic and I would believe that his core was drained significantly due to protecting him from harm."

The two allowed the information to sink in, watching silently as Mary's face shifted from concern to confusion until finally here eyes widened in recognition, "Oh Isaac, how could I have been so foolish."

"Mom?"

Glancing sadly at her son for a moment, she turned to the women misty eyed, "Back in 81 there was an accident. A gas main suddenly ruptured and exploded killing twelve people and injured a lot more. My husband, Baako, was one of the twelve killed. He was holding Isaac at the time. I thought he was hurt bad but he wasn't, just screaming from the noise. The authorities and I thought it was just that Baako had reacted in time to take the force of the blast and shield him from it, but now..."

McGonagall paled, "Was this by chance August 1st?"

Mary nodded confused, "Yes, how did you know?"

Pomfrey gasped while McGonagall sighed, "Oh Sirius... , like the muggle world, our world is not free of conflict and war. Ten years ago we were at war with a dark wizard who terrorized families and killed those who did not follow in line. His followers were often the same. Needless to say circumstances brought his demise on october 31st, but before the Ministry could round up his followers there was an incident in muggle London. A man named Sirius Black hunted down and killed one of ours, Peter Pettigrew, with a blast hex that left but a finger behind from the wizard...and killed twelve muggles."

Mary felt numb, the memory playing before her eyes just as vividly as the day it happened. She fell to the couch staring at the wall as she tried to wrestle her demons. Isaac was not much better, his eyes filled the youthful accusation, "You mean, a wizard killed my dad?"

End

* * *

 _Hello fanfiction readers. I wrote this because I've never seen a story where one of the muggleborn to attend hogwarts was affected by the war with Voldemort before his return in Harry's fourth year. Honestly Peter's betrayal and escape seemed ideal to me. He was in a public, crowded, muggle location in the middle of the day, a child Harry's age getting caught in the crossfire is extremely possible. As of now it is a one shot, perhaps I might continue it, but really I have limited knowledge of the books (its been ages since I've read them) and I don't think I could do it justice at the moment. Maybe if enough people are interested._

 _Anyway, I like the idea of the accidental magic straining a toddler so much that it would nearly make him a squib. It adds another level of adversity of them to work through as a character, and of course it breaks the faux pas that is a super powered OC coming into the wizarding world to sex cannon-characters and mess up Death Eaters. Either way, thanks for reading._


	2. Chapter 2

The sun mourned as it dipped below the skyline, casting its fleeting light with one last display of vibrant color across the twilight sky. Children played without care, parents sat out with cold drinks and easy conversation as a small cool breeze kissed gently at exposed flesh, easing the pain of a hot summer day. Isaac was walking home with a smile on his face as Jessica pushed him playfully before running into her house.

He'd come from a few blocks over, persuaded once again by Jessica to abandon his books and play with the other children in the neighborhood. The first thing he noticed was the crowd, grown-ups all standing across the street before his house as the police kept a line that was not to be crossed. Isaac thought it was the neighbors, that the elderly Miss Renslo had finally passed as his mother sometimes fretted about, so he cut through the back and made his way from their. It was the right choice, there was no one in his yard as he moved the loose board, but the backdoor was open slightly, 'Mum most have forgotten to close it again.'

Shaking his head, the youngster took the steps two at a time, and pulled the door open as he sucked in a breath to call out to his scatterbrained mother only to have it release in a huff at what greeted him. There were bobbies all over the house talking as they dusted around broken glass from his mother's favorite vase. The house was a mess, drawers thrown open, the kitchen table overturned, but what held Isaac's attention wasn't the state of his house, but the state of his mother who stared at him with lifeless eyes as the blood lay pooled around her. His soft voice brought all the commotion to a grinding halt, "Mum?"

With a gasp Isaac awoke, staring at the top the curtains that hung over his bed in a small attempt at privacy, unnaturally hot even in the winter as an uncomfortable sweat made itself known. Around him he could hear the soft breathing of his roommates, undisturbed from their slumber. Making sure to move as silently as possible, Isaac placed his feet onto the cold stone floor and make his was way to the bathroom, stealing a glance out the exposed window as he tried to gauge the time.

A candle lit as he walked to the sink, allowing him to turn the knob for cold water and splash it onto his face before he gazed into his reflection. Nothing had really changed in the six months since his mother's death, he'd lost a little weight from not eating as much, but the baby fat of youth still held to his face so it was nothing too severe. Perhaps the only real change was to his demeanor which apparently was much to solemn for a boy his age, or so he was told. He gave a smile to the reflection but quickly dropped it as it felt mocking and uncomfortable _, 'Guess it has been a while._ ' He thought distantly.

Returning to his bed, Isaac opened his trunk, put on some muggle clothing, and took his potions book as he made his way down to the RavenClaw common room. The common room reminded the child of a library, there were plenty of bookshelves and comfortable places to read along with tables for group study. Apparently the were dedicated by past RavenClaw students, some of them were rare and out of print but they all had to pass Professor Flitwick's inspection so that meant nothing too dangerous or illegal. They were also enchanted to never leave the common room, so no one could take them without finding a way to break the charm.

Finding a couch near the fireplace, which sprang to life with his approach, Isaac sat and opened his book to continue reading ahead for the course. He quite enjoyed potions, mostly because it did not require a wand for the most part and while Professor Snape was not particularly kind, he did not hover over his students at all times unless they proved to need the...extra guidance. But no matter how much potions pleased him, Isaac could not keep his mind on the subject, and after he found himself reading the same line three times over again, he set the book down with a heavy sigh and gazed into the fire in an attempt to relax.

As he sat memories of the past six months came to the surface, a whirlwind of emotion and change that all started with the death of his mother, _'Actually that's a lie,'_ he thought bitterly, _'it all started with Magic.'_ His mother had been the victim of a thief, one that had stuck many times since the beginning of the year, but she was his first and only murder victim. The man admitted to stabbing his mother in the chest after she fought him off when he tried to get her wedding ring. He had life in prison, but it did not bring his mother back.

She had no next of kin, no sisters or brothers to claim him. Isaac's grandparents were dead on his mother's side and unknown on his father's, in fact no one knew where the Frimprong's resided in Africa, and so they were neigh unreachable. So alone and underage, Isaac was taken to an orphanage just outside of London. The Wayward Home was a non-profit facility but by no means was it run down. The children were all cared for, and they never overcrowded so each child was afforded their own room. One week into his stay at the facility and Isaac had his first bought of accidental magic.

 _He didn't want to mingle, didn't want to leave his room, not to eat or anything else. Instead he would sit on the bed and silently cry over the loss of his mother. For a day the caretakers left him be, but when Miss Ruby insisted that he accompany her to lunch the magic found him, and when she came to fetch him for lunch she found the door locked, an impossibility since none of the children's rooms had locks. What resulted was an hour of pleading and banging around as they tried everything to get the door to move. Eventually the police were called, and when they failed to break down the door, the fire department came in and with a ladder to the third floor climbed into the window only to find Isaac still curled up on his bed, oblivious to the world. They were able to open the door from the inside, but no one could find just how it remained so firmly jammed in place._

 _The next day, an old man with an extremely long white beard visited him on the subject of attending an exclusive boarding school that acted on a members only policy. He'd gotten permission to speak with him alone, and when he did he removed a stick from his strange robe and waved about as light flee from it, **'For extra privacy. My name is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witch-craft and Wizardry. You see Isaac, I am a wizard and in fact so are you. All this has been explained to you before, but..well perhaps it's best if I just show you.'**_

 _Giving another wave of his stick, Isaac flinched as a yellow light went into his head causing the room to spin. After the spinning stopped Isaac found himself remembering an incident a few weeks ago about two strangely clad women, and a conversation about magic. Needless to say, he was furious, **"You-you wiped our memories!"**_

 _Dumbledore held up his hand placantly, " **Peace Isaac, it was not a move of hostility but one of necessity."**_

 ** _"What's necessary about messing with my head!?"_**

 ** _"It is Wizarding Law, a Statue of Secrecy for the muggle, that is to say, the Non-Wizarding world. The law is over one hundred years old, and was erected to keep both parties safe since people tended to use pitchforks and fires to kill witches and wizards alike."_**

 _Isaac frowned at the words, " **But I'm a wizard, that shouldn't apply to me."**_

 _Dumbledore nodded, **"Yes normally you would be correct, but you are also an underage Muggleborn who had rejected coming to Hogwarts to learn to control your magic and embrace our world. You expressed the desire to remain in the Muggle world with your mother and leave magic behind, so to protect our society we removed your memory of our interaction and left you well enough alone."**_

 _" **She-"** Isaac hesitated, remembering the look on his mother's face," **She was scared she'd lose me, and I didn't want to leave her. We just found out that a man, a wizard, was responsible for my father's death, how could we go into a world like that?"**_

 ** _"Yes, I realize that was a peculiar predicament for you. Truly I am sorry for your loss, your losses. As you can see the Wizarding world can be dangerous at times, but alas, so can the Muggle. It is the nature of things Isaac, and I believe you were forced to pay a heavy toll to learn that lesson."_**

 _For a moment neither of them spoke, Isaac because his tears had returned and Albus because he could do little to comfort the boy. Finally he gathered his composure, and with it, his anger, " **Why come here at all?"** He asked sharply, **"You already erased my memories once, why come back to tell me of it again?"**_

 _For the first time Dumbledore looked abash, **"Because, my boy, circumstances have changed. Your mother is no longer with us, and you've demonstrated a feat of accidental magic when before none appeared since the death of your father. I've come to offer you another chance to join the Wizarding World, to come to Hogwarts and live until next summer."**_

 _Isaac looked mutanious, but before he could bite out his reply Dumbledore continued, " **However, you can refuse my boy, no harm will come from it. I will be forced to remove this visit from your memories, but then you could stay here in the muggle world. Maybe even gain a new family through adoption."**_

 _That took the fight out of Isaac in a mighty blow. Never had he considered having different parents, even with his father's death as a baby. Now it was becoming a real possibility, after all he was staying in a orphanage. In a whisper he finally spoke, " **I don't want to be adopted. I already have parents."**_

 _Dumbledore gave him a pensive look, **"I would think that any opportunity to adopt you would be limited if you only spent three months of the year here until your legal age of eighteen."** The trap lay naked before him. No matter which way he turned he would be snared, miserable and alone in either world, 'But no adoption in the magical world, not for me at least.'_

 ** _"Are there limitations to what magic can do?"_**

 _If the change in conversation surprised the elderly man he did not show it, instead he smiled, **"Mr. Frimprong, I'm sure you'll find that magic is capable of a great deal of things."**_

Isaac snorted at the memory, _'A great deal of things indeed.'_ The boy had seen the impossible come to life. Ghost floating around a magical castle, plants that screamed with the power to kill, potions that could grow bones overnight and literally bring a man back from the edge of death. Isaac was quickly overwhelmed by his ignorance of something that was natural to him, and so he educated himself with the same careful haste that he used while in the regular world.

A quick look at the clock told him the time and he grimaced, it was still late but even though he wasn't tired they had Astronomy at midnight, and since he favored doing his homework and reading after dinner he would have to get his sleep in now, _'Holidays start Monday, plenty of time to rest then._ ' Prying himself from the couch, and collecting his book, Isaac resigned himself to another rough night.

* * *

The yellow shell before Isaac shook with a fever before it settled, still unchanged, much to his chagrin. Leveling a glare at the blasted shell, the boy turned his attention to his wand none too impressed. Wand Magic was not something that came easy for him, though it was he and not the wand to blame, _'No that blame lies with Sirius Black.'_ He thought bitterly.

He sunk a glance at the Hufflepuff next to him, the redhead Susan Bones, and was disappointed to see that she had already managed to transform her shell into a quill without any imperfections. Luckily, it seemed she was one of the few who did as Professor McGonagall looked impressed as she stopped to inspect her work, "Five points to Hufflepuff, well done Ms. Bones. The rest of you make sure your wand movements are precise. It is an inverted rotation followed by a flick downward, and remember, magic is as much about intent as it is precision." The professors eyes darted to Isaac's for only a moment, they held a trace of emotion he could not decipher, before moving on to the other students.

Isaac peered at the shell before taking a deep breath and focusing on the task at hand. He began the process again, concentrating on his wand arm and slowly feeling the tingle of magic as it flowed towards the instrument. It was like filling a basin with a few drops of rain at a time, it was much too slow for his liking and worse he had to make sure not to use too much otherwise he'd over power the spell, which was just as bad as failing in his eyes as the results varied. Combine that with having to measure for each different spell, and it was quickly becoming a nightmare for the eleven year old.

Having gathered a good deal more of his magic, Isaac gave the proper rotation and flick as he released his magic with a grim determination to transform the shell. Once again it shook feverishly, before taking on the appearance of a quill with the same yellowish color of the shell. He picked it up hesitantly, frustrated to find that the quill was much too rigid. Setting it back down, with a muttered finite he canceled the transformation, the only bit of magic he could do that didn't that came easy.

He was already coralling his magic for another attempt when a voice whispered to him,"Try concentrating harder, that's usually the problem."

Turning right from where the girl, Susan had spoken, found him on the receiving end of a tentative smile from the half-blood, "Thank you, but I assure you it is not my concentration that is the problem." He watched as the smile fell from her face. Apparently he had that effect on people now days. She said nothing, just turned back to her own quill and avoided eye contact. He was about to follow suit when another voice caught his attention, "Oi Frimprong, she was just trying to help. No need to bite her head off because you suck at Transfiguration."

Just on the otherside of a now blushing Susan sat Ernie Macmillan who was scowling at him, "I don't think you heard but I did thank her. I just corrected her assessment of the problem." His voice even and unconcerned, Isaac continued to gather his magic, but apparently that was the wrong thing to say.

"That's how you thank someone?! No wonder you don't have any friends, almost as bad as Malfoy with the way you turn your nose up!"

Isaac continued on unabashed, "If that is how you feel then I won't be held responsible. I thanked her, corrected her assessment, and now I'm getting back to work."

"If you already know the problem then you should be able to do it next try." His voice carried the tone of challenge, "After all, you just said it wasn't concentration."

Isaac raised a single brow, "Knowing the problem and fixing it are two very different things, Macmillan."

"Sounds like you're makes excuses to me," and then, with a victorious smirk, "It's alright Frimprong, nothing wrong with getting help when you don't know the answer."

A small part of him wanted so badly to do damage to that smirking face, but it was squashed as the tingle of magic in his hand built uninterrupted. Turning back to his shell, Isaac repeated the motions and allowed the magic to go to work. To his satisfaction a quill sat on his desk where the shell used to be.

The scowl on Ernie's face complemented the embarrassed flush nicely, "I told you, it was not a matter of intent." He spoke evenly, but it seemed to only infuriate the boy further. Before he could speak Professor McGonagall was making the rounds again, so he turned back to his own work.

A few moments later, after McGonagall was through marking who had gotten their transformations down and to what degree, class was dismissed. Isaac moved at a much more subdued pace, charms was next which meant more wand work. He was the last one out of the classroom and as he rounded the corner he found his roommates waiting for him.

"Can I help you?" He asked

Michael, the appointed leader, spoke first, "Look Frimprong, we get that you're not here to make friends, but don't go being rude to the Puffs. The lions and snakes might hate each other but that doesn't mean we have to emulate them." Anthony and Terry murmured their approval while Isaac just shook his head.

"It was a misunderstanding. Macmillan thought I was being rude even after I denied it, nothing else I can do after that. Susan didn't even seem embarrassed until he made a scene, so there is no need to worry. Your relationship with the Badgers won't suffer on my accord." Isaac spoke calmly and continued to walk but the rest stayed behind. He was a few feet away when he heard Terry speak, "So says the Ice King." He was used to their nickname, it meant nothing to him.

* * *

Professor Flitwick was on his way back to his quarters when Professor McGonagall hailed him, "Why Deputy Headmistress, what can I do for you?"

The Scottish woman gave the half-goblin a smile, "Well Filius I was just hoping to inquire about a student of your house."

"Oh my, which one is giving your trouble Minerva?"

"They aren't in trouble per say, its just...I've noticed this particular students having difficulties fitting in."

The charms professor brows raised in a knowing way before giving her a sympathetic look, "Ah, you're here for ."

"Yes,"she nodded,"I am. I'm not sure what Albus told you but I was the first to make contact with the Frimprongs. Isaac and his Mother Mary were happy enough, until they knew of the wizarding world, and when they found that it was Sirius responsible for Baako Frimprong's death..well they wanted nothing to do with our world." She paused with a heavy sigh, "I thought it for the best at the time. 's magical core was extremely damaged from the incident, and according to Pomfrey it is likely his magic will never be stronger than that of a child, just over a squib."

Now it was Flitwicks turn to look saddened, "Yes I'm familiar with the condition. Extreme Magical Exhaustion, enough magic to become aware that it's there, but never enough to be used in a practical sense. Though I must say I'm impressed. Even with his condition the work ethic he possesses is outstanding, and his curiosity suggest a very bright mind."

"Indeed, were he whole I imagine he would give Miss Granger a run for her money as top of their year." She said with a smile, "But we've drifted from the topic at hand. Tell me, has made friends with _any_ of the children?"

"It is my shame to admit he has not. You've heard the names? The other houses call him the walking statue, his own calls him the ice king. For all his curiosity, he doesn't speak much and prefers the company of books. But it seems he does have one person he likes to talk to more than anyone else."

Minerva was confused, "I thought you said-"

"Ah it's not a child, or even a living person anymore. No Isaac seems to speak extensively with the Gray Lady."

To say she was shocked was an understatement,"Truly? Mostly she spends her time alone, sometimes exchanging pleasantries with the younger student's yes, but never have I seen her engage in conversation with anyone unless it was school related."

Filius chuckled at her shocked expression, "Yes I was flabbergasted as well. I'm not sure when he began speaking with her, but one night he was out past curfew walking towards the common room while talking about his week. She didn't say much, but from what little she said you could tell that it wasn't the first time they'd talked."

Minerva walked lost in thought, to think Isaac could do what she believed no had done before was astounding, 'But the Gray Lady has always been a ghost of solitude, perhaps she sees in him a kindred spirit.'

"Have you tried to speak with him about her?"

"Merlin no, not with him or her, and I'd ask you not to either."

"Filius he needs to make a real friend-"

"And who is to say he hasn't" He shot back challengingly, "Minerva the boy needs an outlet, needs to talk to someone and who better than the Gray Lady. We know her story, the whole wizarding world does. It's filled with loss, betrayal and tragedy much like his own so far. I don't know how long they'll have each other, don't know if or when she'll stop visiting with him, but for now we should let them be."

Minerva conceded the point and bid he fellow professor farewell, _'Friends with the gray lady? Well, if_ _three first years can defeat a troll without killing themselves then i guess a boy befriending a ghost is no big stranger. Perhaps it is for the best.'_

End

 _I really couldn't get it out of my head, and now it's here for you. I like writing from the OC perspective because it gives me freedom. I don't have to really know what Harry and the Gang are doing or even acknowledge that they are doing something more than what really effects the school. Actually its because of this that I jumped forward six months with only a small flashback of how Isaac came to be at Hogwarts. It might not be the best tactic, but hopefully it has you asking questions, which in turn keeps your interest. Either way constructive criticism is accepted...hell gripe as much as you please. Happy trails._


	3. Chapter 3

The winter holiday found Isaac isolated for the most part. The great hall still held a few students who had not gone home, but Isaac's house was pretty sparse and though he noticed The-Boy-who-Lived lingered along with the Weasleys. For a while Isaac considered going to speak with the famous wizard who had survived the unsurvivable killing curse, but he never really found the opportunity to do so and in time it took to the back burner as he began his lessons in earnest.

Instead he visited the library, combining the shelves for books that extended past those on the requirement list. The first year books were sort of interesting, they covered introductory into the subjects and spell work, but the studious RavenClaw found that they did little to sate his thirst for knowledge. Isaac would never be good with a wand, he'd hoped that in time the spells would come easier and it was painfully obvious that it was not going to happen, so instead the first year focused on finding other avenues to utilize his weak magical core.

Potions was a given, same with herbology, Divination, and flying if he got the opportunity in the future, but after speaking with some of the older members of his house Isaac realized that there were many other branches to explore. Ancient Runes and Arithmancy were both offered at Hogwarts, but mind magic such as Occlumency was something that had to be learned through other means. But the library had failed him in that regard, as he could not find a single book on actually learning the mind magic, at least not in the regular section.

Isaac stole a glance at the door leading to the restricted section of the library before shifting to the frame of Madam Pince reading a thick tome. Isaac was not one for breaking rules, but he loathed the idea of restricting information, especially since they'd bothered to keep it right here in the school. 'If the books are that dangerous then they'd be better of removed all together.' Still, he could land in a lot of trouble for crossing the divider, and detention was not appealing to any young boy.

He was still pondering his situation as he read his runes book before realization struck, 'This isn't the only place in Hogwarts to look for a book.' Smiling to himself, Isaac moved to check out his material and made his way back to the RavenClaw Common Room.

A short while later and his patience was rewarded, 'Defending the mind: A wizards guide to Occlumency.' It was the only book on the subject but there was no helping that. Since he could not take the book back out of the common room, Isaac reasoned that prioritizing Occlumency was best.

* * *

Isaac sat before a dimming fire, his body relaxed and his eyes closed as he sunk into the chair cushion. The tower was mostly silent, all the other occupants slumbering in their dorms, but even if it weren't Isaac doubted he would hear anything over his rhythmic breathing and heartbeat. Three months had passed since he began his practice of the mind magic and yet his progress was frustratingly slow. No matter how many hours he sat and meditated nothing seemed to happen.

The book gave multiple theories on how Occlumency worked, from clearing the mind to constructing mazes to hide the information, and Isaac could not help but feel duped as it seemed that it was a flimsy sort of magic that depended heavily on will and imagination to practice, especially if there was no one to perform the legilimency spell. But there was one thing that the book mentioned that made it all worthwhile, meditation to feel his magical core.

'Most wizards, unlike the various monks I've encountered around the world, never take the time for an introspective journey, or if they do, lack the patience to endure for the time needed. I've found that by meditating regularly and becoming more aware of my body that one can eventually sense their own magical core outside of actively using it for spellwork.'

Isaac believed himself to be a rational child, he knew that professionals had examined his injury and determined that there was no fixing his core. Yet there was room for error. There were cases in which people who were written off overcame the odds with sheer determination or faith. Men were never supposed to walk again stood on shaky limbs and took tentative steps, women who could never conceive finally bearing a child. He knew that it was a longshot, that even if he did find a way to touch his magical core that it would still remain weak, but even if there was even a nano-percent chance of success Isaac would try.

But before he could try to heal his core, he would need to see it first, and now all he saw and felt was darkness. With a heavy sigh he opened his eyes and twitched as he saw a pale white figure in his peripherals. The gray lady was just as her title described, a soft pale white woman in a elegant dress heavily stained with grey blood, "Don't suppose you have any advice on meditation?"

In a soft voice just above a whisper she answered, "No. It was never a popular practice in Europe."

Isaac snorted, "Figures. From my understanding the Wizarding World is nearly incapable of change unless a boot is to their throat."

"Wizards are raised to cling fast to their traditions, this is true. But muggles are not so different either, from what I remember."

"True, but we've made much more progress."

"How many wars did that take?"

The boy could not fight the grin from his face, "Many." The two sat in comfortable silence as the fire continued to flicker. Isaac may not have had the grand first year experience that seemed to intoxicate the other students, but he cherished his friendship with the Gray lady. She had found him the second week of school. He had wandered off into the night when dreams of his mother brought him to tears in an empty classroom. She was there to comfort him and when he found her a week later, he returned the favor. Since then she'd find him sometime during the week, and the two would catch up.

"Are there more traditional means to increase one's magic?"

She was silent for a spell, looking into the fire while her thoughts raced, "There are ways. It was not uncommon for wizards to perform rituals of animal sacrifice to temporarily bolster their strength before a battle or undertaking a momentous task."

Isaac's eyebrows rose as his eyes widened, "I didn't see anything of the sort in the history books."

She frowned, "And you won't. Those practices have been labeled as 'Dark Arts' and so the Ministry ordered the information proscribed. I doubt anyone but the oldest of the pureblood families have books with the ritual information tucked away."

"I guess that's no major loss. I wouldn't want to keep killing animals just to do better in class."

She shook her head, the gray locks shimmering against the soft light "Not at all. Though animals were easier to deal with, to gain the boost of power you seek, another human would have to be sacrificed."

His blood ran cold, "Human sacrifices?"

She nodded, "Yes. It was a widely known secret, but it was done. It was how a lot of great wizards and witches gained their strength, including the founders of Hogwarts."

"That's barbaric! How could such a thing be allowed even in those days?"

"Well for the longest time it was because there was no rule against it, and usually it was done between family members. In today's society squibs can mingle with muggles or take up trades in the wizarding world like the caretaker, but back then there were hardly any squibs. If a child did not show any sign of magic by their tenth birthday then they were often sacrificed to give make the family stronger."

Isaac was eerily still, though his face was pale. The idea of killing someone was appalling, but a family member set it to new depths of depravity. "The founders, they did this as well?"

"All of them at least once." If she felt anything about her own mother being included in the group it did not show, and Isaac knew by now that mentioning anything about Rowena Raven was dangerous waters.

An oppressive silence settled over them, and Isaac tired his best not to imagine a crying child on the alter begging for their life.

0-0-0-0

His routine continued well into the end of the school year. Isaac was able to pay some older house members to buy him books from Hogsmeade, so there was no shortage of information, with the exception of Occlumency. He was still unable to make a breakthrough with his meditation, and arithmancy was so number heavy that most times it just confused him, but ancient runes was going well. He was a long way from implementing the knowledge he had gained, and probably would be for a while longer, but in that subject he felt that he was at least gaining ground.

After his talk with The Gray Lady he had intended to look deeper into the Ministry and politics for the wizarding world, but his plate was already full without adding even more extra curricular activities, so he decided to tackle that in the summer.

A few times during his lessons Isaac caught site of other children laughing and with their friends as they walked the halls. Most of the time he was too engrossed in his own thoughts to really pay attention, but those few times he did Isaac could not help the pang of loneliness that crept into his heart and mind. The worst was when he was in the hospital wing.

He was running a fever and could not keep his food down, so he decided to see the school healer. Once inside he found Potter and Granger sitting next to Weasley's bed. Apparently he'd taken Potter's broom for a ride and took a spill. He didn't look too bad as he sat there laughing about the experience and sharing stories about his older brothers doing roughly the same thing. Maybe it was the fever but Isaac couldn't help but think about blonde haired Jessica Rivers with her bossy attitude and American accent. That one stray thought was enough to break the dam as memories of his friends from school rushed past. He didn't even realize the tears in his eyes until Madame Pomfrey addressed him. He swore it was allergies.

The feeling of isolation was a constant reminder that the wizarding world was not Isaac's world, and now, thanks to the actions of a criminal, neither was the regular world. He would likely never see his friends again and he would not be adopted or go to school with regular children. Needless to say the muggle born welcomed the end of term.

Oddly enough the last few days of school bore a rumor about Voldemort and the Boy who lived clashing in Hogwarts with Professor Quirrell as a casualty. Isaac thought it was lunacy. Hogwarts was impressively warded, at least according to the books, and Voldemort was dead. Even if that second part weren't true, how could a first year student best a full grown and experience wizard? But the absence of the Defense teacher and Potter in the hospital wing were stubbornly taken as proof to the rumors, and so they continued to speculate. And perhaps there was some truth to it, one the last day before they announced the house trophy winner, Professor Dumbledore awarded over three hundred points to the Gryffindor house, winning them the cup. No one missed the Slytherin house member's sour expressions.

With a small parting of ways with The Gray Lady, Isaac left the castle, boarded the train and began reading his books in earnest. For a moment a flash of blonde hair passed his door, and he found himself back on the school bench reading Julius Caesar. Only the book was never pulled away, the game continued without him. The pages could offer him no comfort.

End

This one is a bit shorter than the others, but to be honest there is nothing in the first year that i could really have Isaac go through that would really mean anything. Second year however, is when things really pick up. Monster's, rumors, new housemates, and a better understanding of the wizarding world. I hope to see you next time.


End file.
